Disclaimers: Okay, once more: don't own 'em. The Wachowski's and WB own the Matrix Trilogy, Dickens owns A Christmas Carol.

Fiction, not fact.

And here we go with chapter 3 of…

A Matrix Christmas Carol

Male voice: (deep and booming) Agent Smith!?

(Smith jolts awake to see another bright light coming from outside his closed bedroom door. He gets up and goes over to open the door. As soon as he does, he is temporarily blinded by the bright light, but soon it fades to reveal… Morpheus! He is dressed in his purple suit and leather trench coat, and is holding a torch. He has a big smile on his face, which makes him seem almost like royalty. He is seated in a big, comfy chair, surrounded by all sorts of wealth – jewels, fancy plates and silverware, expensive food and drink, etc. Smith is quite astonished at the sight.)

Smith: Wow! Where did all this stuff come from?

Morpheus: It belongs to me, for I have quite a few mouths to feed in my family.

Smith: Well… how many, to be exact?

Morpheus: Over 1,800! (laughing jovially)

Smith: Who are you, anyway?

Morpheus: I am the Zionist of Christmas Present.

Smith: Christmas Present? So you're the second of the three humans that are supposed to visit me.

Morpheus: I am.

Smith: So how did you come into all this stuff?

Morpheus: Generosity, my good man. Generosity. I have made it an effort to bless my fellow man, and it has come back to me tenfold. But it is nothing compared to the good feeling I get from doing so; for that is something money cannot buy. But enough about me. I am here to help you learn how to be generous, and kind. We don't have much time. So take hold of my trench coat.

(Smith does so, and everything swirls, just like with Christmas Past. They enter a construct in which it is morning. There are people out in the streets: buying various holiday items from various merchants, socializing, spending time with family and friends, etc. Everyone seems quite happy.)

Smith: So, what day is this supposed to be?

Morpheus: Can you not tell? It's Christmas morning.

Smith: Oh, so that's what's with all the giddiness. By the way, what's up with that torch?

Morpheus: Within this torch is the power of Christmas. I can use it to spread a little holiday cheer wherever it's needed.

(As Morpheus proceeds to lead Smith towards their destination, we see two oncoming cars nearly hit each other at an intersection. The two drivers step out of their vehicles, both mad.)

Driver #1: Are you some kinda maniac? Driving like that? You nearly hit me!

Driver #2: I had a green! What're you doin', runnin' a red like that?

(Morpheus stops and waves his torch around. All of a sudden, the two drivers' faces soften.)

Driver #1: Aww man, I'm sorry about that. We shouldn't be fighting like this, on Christmas Day.

Driver #2: No, it's okay. How 'bout we go to that bar over there and I buy ya a brew?

Driver #1: Well… okay.

(The two drivers leave their cars and go across the street to a tavern.)

Smith: You were right. There is a power in that torch.

Morpheus: I told you. But come now, let's get going.

(Morpheus continues to lead Smith, until both of them reach a shabby-looking house in a poorer section of town. They stop near the front door, and Morpheus speaks to Smith.)

Morpheus: Do you know this place?

Smith: Uhh, no. I can't say that I do.

Morpheus: This is the home of one Agent Brown.

Smith: Agent Brown? One of my employees? I'll say, he does quite well for what I pay him.

Morpheus: Does he? Come in. Let's see just what he goes through on Christmas.

Smith: Well, I don't want to disturb him.

Morpheus: As with Christmas Past, we will be unseen and unheard.

(Morpheus leads Smith inside, where we see a handsome woman and several children of various ages (all wearing matching suits, shades, and earpieces, mind you) making various preparations around the house – cooking, cleaning, washing linens, etc. They are waiting for Agent Brown and his son, Tim, who we met in chapter one. We see another of their sons, Peter, attempt to eat something cooking on the stove, but he is promptly caught by Mrs. Brown.)

Mrs. Brown: Peter! Shame on you. You know better than to eat something while it's still cooking, especially dessert.

Peter Brown: I was just testing the pudding, mum.

Mrs. Brown: If you keep testing it like that, there won't be any for us after Christmas dinner.

Peter Brown: Well, I can't help it, mum. Your pudding's so delicious.

Mrs. Brown: It is, is it?

Katrina Brown (one of the daughters): No one makes a better pudding than you, mum.

Mrs. Brown: Thank you, both of you. Now hustle along. We need to get everything ready in time for dinner. Your father and brother will be home shortly.

(Morpheus and Smith watch for a few more minutes. Soon after Agent Brown enters, carrying Tim. Both are still wearing their suits, shades, and earpieces. Agent Brown is also carrying in his other hand Tim's crutch.)

Agent Brown: Hello, children.

The other Brown children: (at random) Father… Hello, father… Merry Christmas…

Agent Brown: And a very Merry Christmas to you all too.

Mrs. Brown: So how was Tim today?

Agent Brown: As good as gold and better.

Tim Brown: Father had a long talk with the minister.

Mrs. Brown: That's good, Tim. Why don't you go see if your brothers need any help?

Tim Brown: Yes, mum.

(Exit Tim as Agent and Mrs. Brown continue to speak.)

Agent Brown: Darling, you should have been there with us today and heard what Tim had to say. During the sermon, Tim whispered to me that he hoped that people would see him and remember who it was that reprogrammed the lame to walk and the blind to see.

Mrs. Brown: Wow. That must have been something.

Agent Brown: I'm telling you, I have a good feeling about our son. I really do think that Tim is getting stronger every day. I even think that he might walk again.

(About an hour later)

(We see the entire family gathered around the dinner table, with Morpheus and Smith looking on, as Mrs. Brown brings in a covered dish. She sets it at the center of the table and lifts the cover to reveal… a small Christmas ham. All the children are cheering and proceeding to dig in, until Agent Brown stops them.)

Agent Brown: (tapping a spoon on the table) AHEM! Aren't we forgetting something?

(Everyone becomes silent and bows their heads.)

Agent Brown: Oh Lord, we thank you for this blessing that you are about to bestow on us. We ask that you bless it to our bodies and our bodies to your service. We also thank you for this very special holiday, and ask that you bless it as well. In Jesus' name we pray, Amen.

Everyone else: AMEN!

Tim Brown: And God bless us all, everyone.

(With this, everyone starts to chow down, Morpheus and Smith watching.)

Smith: That ham looks a little small, doesn't it?

Morpheus: It's all Agent Brown can afford.

(The two continue to watch. Smith is especially curious about Tim.)

Smith: Tell me something, Morpheus: will Tim make it? Will he walk again?

Morpheus: All I can say is this: if these scenarios remain unchanged… then the child will die.

Smith: Oh dear.

Morpheus: (sardonic) But if he is to die, then I guess he'd better do so, "and decrease the human population."

Smith: (taken aback) You're using my own words against me?

Morpheus: Then I guess next time you'll heed your own words. Because if you were to take a short walk around Zion right now, you would find that you are more worthless than millions, like this poor program's child.

(Smith is rather surprised at Morpheus' judgmental tone. A little later, we see Mrs. Brown bringing out the pudding. She gives some to Agent Brown first to taste. He does so, savoring the flavor.)

Agent Brown: Well, love… on a scale of 1 to 10 I would rate this at about... eleven!

(The children cheer as Mrs. Brown serves pudding to them. They eat up. Afterwards, Agent Brown stands.)

Agent Brown: And now, I would like to make a toast. To Agent Smith, the founder of our feast.

(The children hesitate as Mrs. Brown stands up to reply.)

Mrs. Brown: Hmph! The founder of our feast indeed. If your boss were here right now, I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon. And hope he had a good appetite.

Agent Brown: Honey, the children. It's Christmas.

Mrs. Brown: My point exactly. Why should Christmas be wasted drinking a toast to such a stingy, tight-fisted, sadistic, brainless, heartless, soulless, penny-pinching, mean-spirited man such as Agent Smith…

Smith: (eyes widened) Good grief, woman.

Mrs. Brown: …Well, I'll drink to your toast, for your sake, and the sake of the children, and the day's sake, but not for his. Long life and prosperity, to Agent Smith.

Agent Brown: Agent Smith.

The other children: (at random) Agent Smith…

Tim Brown: Agent Smith.

(Everyone drinks up. The whole family then gets together and opens presents and sings carols.)

Smith: Well, heh-heh… you heard 'em. Without me there'd be no feast. So can I go now?

Morpheus: Not quite. You still have much to learn. Take hold of my coat.

(Smith does so. The construct swirls around again, and they end up in front of a swankier house, where it is clear that there is a Christmas party going on inside.)

Smith: Where are we now?

Morpheus: I'm awfully surprised that you don't know. It's the home of your nephew, Agent Thompson. It's their annual Christmas party/dinner. The one you always refuse to go to.

Smith: Well, uhh… it just seems a bit silly, that's all.

Morpheus: Oh Smith, I almost pity you. But come, let's go inside.

(Inside we see Agent Thompson and Brittany, his wife, mingling amidst the guests. Among them we see Agents Johnson, Jackson, and Jones, and also Switch, Apoc, Link, Dozer, and Mouse. They are all having a good time.)

Agent Thompson: Thank you guys for coming here, but especially thanks to you humans, seeing as how the other 364 days a year we agents shoot at you.

Apoc: That's the beauty of Christmas. It's the one day of the year where we can say "to heck with all our differences."

Everyone else: Amen!

Brittany: Well, except for maybe one person. And I think you guys know who that is.

Everyone: (at random) Yeah… right…

Agent Thompson: Speaking of which, I happened to bump into my uncle just yesterday afternoon.

Switch: Did you invite him to the party?

Agent Thompson: I do every year. But this time around, he didn't even give me the chance to give him the invite.

Link: What did he say?

Agent Thompson: That's the funny part. He called Christmas a "humbug." He believed it too.

Mouse: What else did he say?

Agent Thompson: He gave me some baloney about spreading his will through the Matrix and deleting programs with steaks of holly… I dunno. I had my earpiece turned off by then.

(Everyone laughs as Smith gets a look of surprise on his face.)

Agent Jackson: So what did you end up saying to him, finally?

Agent Thompson: What I end up saying every year: "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!" Y'see, every year I'll always invite him to our annual Christmas party.

Brittany: And every year he'll say, "Christmas?"

Everyone: (finishing the quote) "BAH! HUMBUG!" (laughing)

Smith: This is what you bring me here to see? People laughing and making merry at my expense?

Morpheus: You need to see this. There is a lesson in here, if you look hard enough.

(Agent Thompson goes to the middle of the room and gets everyone's attention.)

Agent Thompson: Okay, everyone! If I could have your attention please!

(Everyone gets quiet.)

Agent Thompson: It is now time for the Christmas games, which we do every year, as most of you all know. We're going to start this year... with charades. We will divide into two teams. Let's see, how should we divide the teams this year?

Agent Jones: Let's do boys against girls.

Switch: Yeah, I can do that.

Brittany: Me too.

Agent Thompson: Anyone here object?

(No one speaks.)

Agent Thompson: Okay then, boys against girls it is. Let's everyone go to their teams, and we can get started.

(All the guys go to one side, and the girls go to the other.)

Agent Thompson: Okay… Ummm, let's let the ladies start.

(Brittany goes up to the middle of the room. Immediately she begins acting out her chosen charade. She acts like a mean-looking uptight old man, walking with a cane.)

Lady #1: Old man.

(Brittany continues.)

Lady #2: Grouchy old man.

(Brittany acts like she is bending over to pick up a penny. She pinches it very tightly.)

Lady #1: Penny-pincher.

(Brittany signals the group to say that they're getting warmer.)

Switch: Agent Smith!

Brittany: YES!

(Brittany rejoins her team, who are all high-fiving each other.)

Smith: Well, I'm watching, and all I see is that I'm disliked by others. So what's the lesson here, work hard to be more popular?

Morpheus: No, there is a deeper lesson to be learned here. I have one more scenario to show you, and then we will be done. Hopefully you will have learned by then. Take hold of my coat.

(As the games continue, Smith obeys. The construct swirls and stops at a city street at night. There are many homeless people standing, sitting, or lying about on it.)

Smith: What is this? It looks like just another street. Except that there's a bunch of bums around on this one.

Morpheus: Bums? Bums? I think you need to take a closer look.

(Morpheus leads Smith closer to three people huddled around a fire burning in a metal drum.)

Kamala: Do we have enough wood for tonight?

Rama-Kandra: (tossing some wood into the fire) I think so.

Seraph: Where did you get all this, Rama?

Rama-Kandra: (defensively) I didn't steal them if that's what you're implying!

Kamala: He wasn't suggesting that you did.

Rama-Kandra: He should have more respect.

Seraph: I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it.

Rama-Kandra: (sighing) I'm not a thief. Not yet anyway.

(Rama-Kandra steps away from the group, Kamala following him.)

Kamala: Please, honey. Come back to the fire.

Rama-Kandra: Kamala, look. (holds out his hands) Look at my hands. They're hard hands, from doing hard work. I want to work. I want to provide for you and Seraph… Kamala, I love you. Tomorrow… I want you to take Seraph, and go to the homeless shelter.

Kamala: No! Never! I'd rather that I and Seraph be deleted, or drown in a pool of liquefied human remains, than go to one of those places.

Rama-Kandra: Not even temporarily, until I get work.

Kamala: Rama, we are a family. We must stay together.

(Rama-Kandra's face softens.)

Kamala: Now please, come back to the fire with us.

(Rama-Kandra does so, Smith and Morpheus all the while watching them.)

Smith: What a bunch of idiots. They'd rather live on these filthy streets, eat garbage, and wear flea-bitten rags than go to a shelter where they'd have a roof over their heads? Hmph! My tax dollars at work.

Morpheus: Are they not part of this world!?

(Smith is surprised at Morpheus sudden tone of voice.)

Morpheus: Smith, take a look at these two!

(Morpheus opens his trench coat to reveal: Sati and the Spoon-Bending Kid! They are dressed in rags, just like the other homeless people on the street.)

Morpheus: Smith, do you know who these two are?

Smith: Ummm, no. I don't.

Morpheus: They are your children! They are the children of all who walk the Matrix! The boy is Ignorance! The girl is Want! Beware of both of them, but of the boy especially, for on his brow is one word!

Smith: (struggling to read the word on the Spoon-Bending Kid's forehead) "Spoon?"

(Morpheus takes a peek at the Spoon-Bending Kid, and sees the word.)

Morpheus: Oh, heh-heh. That's a misprint. It should say… "Doom!"

(Smith face becomes full of dread.)

Smith: Cover them… I don't want to see them.

Morpheus: Hm, hm, hm. Suit yourself. (closes his trench coat) They're hidden. But they live. Oh yes, my boy. They live.

(Morpheus looks at his watch.)

Morpheus: Well, Smith, the time has come for me to leave you.

Smith: L-leave me?

Morpheus: Oh yes.

Smith: Well… take me back to my bedroom. I gotta wait for the third human.

Morpheus: Hm, hm, hm. Uh-uh. It's too late for that.

(Morpheus, laughing, disappears, along with the other people, leaving Smith all alone within the construct.)

Smith: Hey, hey! Where did you go? Come back!

(Smith looks around. There is no one.)

Smith: All right, fine! You made your point! I didn't do enough charity work in life! I put my needs ahead of others at times! Fine! You come back here, and we can cut a deal!... Zionist!!! Get back here!!!

(Still nothing. Smith's heart sinks, and he slides up against a light post, sighing.)

Smith: Oh dear God. What have I done?

TO BE CONTINUED…

Okay, sorry it's taking so long, but here's chapter 3. I'll get chapters 4 and 5 done really soon – hopefully by Christmas day! Please R&R :-)